


Ruined Melodies

by ikawritesthings



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dream Smp, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghostbur, Mentioned Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Other, Resurrection, Sad and Happy, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, and him reuniting with each of sbi, basically a ghostbur resurrection fic, i cant imagine coming back from the dead is easy so, i dont know its just a bit depressing LMAO, i guess, i think, i thought of the end and wrote this backwards LOL, wilbur apologises for pogtopia, wilbur is in pain for a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28836795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikawritesthings/pseuds/ikawritesthings
Summary: Coming back from the dead isn't easy, didn't you know?(Wilbur's experience with being brought back from the dead, him learning about the state of things, and how that affects him and his family. )
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 165





	1. Phil

It'd been 3 days since Wilbur woke up.

Phil had been slaving over ancient texts for months since Ghostbur first brought up the idea of resurrection, losing many nights of sleep to the words written in faded black ink on yellowing pages. From the start, he knew the chances of this working were slim. Techno had reminded him many times of his own skepticism, never quite looking at the texts with the respect Phil felt they deserved… though he supposed he understood the pessimistic attitude. Despite his stoic facade, Phil knew that Wilbur’s death had hit Techno harder than anyone; he had seen the way his son couldn't bear to look at himself for months, seeing too much of the twin he lost in the reflection before him. He had seen his reaction upon meeting Ghostbur - someone he once admitted felt like "a cheap version of what Wilbur was," - with his unending positivity and childlike naivety of the cold, dark world. The way he'd frozen and backed up as the ghost excitedly introduced himself with an eerily happy smile, as if he couldn't believe who he saw in front of him.

_"I thought I'd gone insane with grief," Techno admitted, huddled closely to the warmth of the fireplace that felt like home, "Seein' Wilbur stood next to Tommy like that. It was like he was haunting me."_

So, to spare the boy the grief of a failed ritual, Phil waited until he'd waved Techno off on a three week journey to make an attempt at bringing Wilbur back from the dead. He called Ghostbur, who nervously took his place in the middle of the ritual circle Phil had marked out in charcoal.

"This might not work, Ghostbur," Phil sighed, scanning the pages of his books one final time, "These could've been written by a bunch of lunatics who had no clue what they were talking about. So don't get your hopes up too high, okay mate?"

Ghostbur smiled, picking idly at the loose threads hanging from the ends of his yellow sweater, "I know, Phil! But I believe in you! You killed me once, so why wouldn't you be able to do it again?" He meant no harm by it, but his words stung. Phil held out his sword, the same one he'd plunged through Wilbur over a year ago now, and with a shaky breath began the incantations.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Wilbur awoke with a start. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and soaked his hair, and his heart was pacing as if he'd just finished a marathon. Arms wrapped tightly around him, cradling him like a baby and pulling his head to rest in the nook of someone's neck. Careful fingers combed through his hair, smoothing out the wet strands as said someone whispered about how it was going to be okay, he would get through it.

Heat overcame his entire body, his hands quivered as he burned from the inside out. It was a debilitating, mind-numbing kind of pain - vicious and unforgiving. His head throbbed, his eyes watered, his limbs thrashed and spasmed in agony. He couldn't even scream. All that came out was hoarse silence as if the heat had dried up his vocal chords. The source seemed to stem from his abdomen, a sharp, stabbing pain constantly tormenting him, as if someone was plunging a phantom blade into him over and over and over and over-

It all stopped.

Suddenly. Like someone had flipped a switch, it faded. The voice soothing him became more recognisable, the tears in his vision being blinked away and making the image clearer. A man held him closely, fussing over him like a newborn baby. He had chin length blonde hair, and kind green eyes. A warm smile that Wilbur wanted to trust. A smile he felt he recognised-

_Phil._

Like a flood, memories swarmed his already fragile mind, obliterating the delicate sanity he'd been clinging to since he woke up. The war. The TNT. The button. The sword. His death. _His death. His freedom._

"Why?" he asked hoarsely, the flood of his mind pouring out through his eyes. Phil's smile fell,

"Why what, my boy?" he asked gently, pulling his son closer. Afraid if he held him too far away from him he'd crumble and fall through his fingertips.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Wilbur sobbed, balling his hands into fists and weakly beating them against Phil's chest, "How could you?! I begged you! It's the only thing I've ever asked from you!"

Phil watched his son fall apart, frozen, unsure what to do. Comforting people was his thing, but how was he supposed to approach this?

"I thought I was free," Wilbur wailed, "I was so happy... You stabbed me... I was so happy and now you've done this to me! Why, Phil? Why? It was finally quiet! It had finally stopped! Why!?"

"Wilbur, Will, mate, please, listen," Phil scrambled to pick up the pieces of his shattered son, who'd slumped in his arms sobbing hysterically, "I did kill you. You... You've been dead for over a year, Will. You were a ghost, you haunted L'Manberg. There was a war and... you asked me to bring you back. Your ghost. So I did! You wanted to be alive again, do you not remember?"

Wilbur paused, taking in stuttered breaths. The room fell silent. His eyes flickered around before landing back on Phil, a newfound hope illuminating them.

"It's quiet," he whispered, eyes wide as he gripped Phil's shirt, "The voices are gone."

Phil inhaled sharply, "Voices?"

"The ones telling me to blow it up... they never stopped... Not even after I hit the button," Brown eyes met green, "They're gone. I'm free..."

Phil chuckled wetly, his own tears joining Wilbur's as he pulled his boy into a proper hug,

"You're free, Will. Dad's got you now, yeah? And I’m not losing you ever again."

For the first time in two years, Wilbur felt safe.


	2. Techno

It'd been three weeks since Wilbur woke up.

Turns out, coming back from the dead isn't easy. If he had to describe it, Wilbur would compare the experience to trying to pull yourself out of quicksand, or swimming against the current in a stormy ocean. To put it in simple terms: it fucking sucks. You can't walk on your own two legs for a while without feeling like you're dragging around heavy weights. You can't keep food down at all. You can't sleep. You can't talk. Your reflection looks weird. You hallucinate. You collapse randomly. You can’t function.

It took about a week, with help and guidance from an ever-patient Phil _(bless his soul)_ , for Will to get up and moving around the wooden cabin he currently called home. It was only then he realised that Techno was the owner of the house. It wasn't too hard to figure out - the location, the surplus of riches, the rockets, and the hidden gold stash were all very clear signs to Wilbur at who Phil's mystery roommate was. He felt somewhat hurt that Techno hadn't checked up on him, until he'd questioned Phil about his twin's whereabouts.

_"Phil?"_

_"Yes, Will?" Phil turned from where he'd been tending to the fire, tone gentle as ever. Ever since Wilbur woke up, he noticed his father's hesitation to raise his voice even slightly at him. Guilt, he supposed._

_"Why hasn't Techno come to see me?"_

_Phil stiffened for a second, staring wide-eyed at the fire. Taking a few seconds to collect himself, he stood and made his way over to where Wilbur was sitting, gazing at the stars outside of the second story window. Draping a blanket over the boy's shoulders, he explained,_

_"He's not here, mate, doesn't know yet," Wilbur looked up at him, confused, "He went on a trip about a week ago, and won't be back for another two. I didn't... want him here, for the ritual. In case it didn't work."_

_"But it did. So shouldn't you tell him?" A pause, "I want to see him."_

_"If I tell him he'll end up getting hurt in his rush to finish and come home," Phil turned and looked out the window as well, stars reflecting in his eyes, "He misses you a lot, even if he doesn't show it."_

_"... I miss him too. Stupid pink hair loser." Wilbur mumbled, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Phil chuckled,_

_"Yeah, I know. He'll be back soon, okay? I promise he'll be happy to see you."_

  
  


"Phil!”

Wilbur shot out of bed, scrambling towards the ladder on jelly legs. He usually took a minute after standing to prepare himself for walking,

"Phil!? You here? I'm back!"

But that voice. This was so much more important.

_Techno was home._

The boy scrambled down the ladder, collapsing in a heap at the bottom of it. Techno whirled around from where he'd been standing unpacking his bags, pointing a sharpened netherite sword in between Wilbur’s eyes. His breath caught, too focused on the weapon in his face to watch as the realisation dawned on his brother, who let his sword clatter to the ground.

"No way... Will? You... You're alive." Techno whispered, staring in disbelief as Wilbur shakily brought himself to his feet.

"Hey, Technoblade," he smiled, "Long time no se- OOF!"

Techno barrelled into him, holding him so tightly it almost hurt. He was shaking slightly, gripping the back of Wilbur’s jacket and almost tearing through the fabric. Wilbur reciprocated, his head falling into his shoulder and his arms wrapping around him just as tightly. For a moment, the world seemed to be a standstill.

"Phil, that madman, he actually did it," Techno broke away just enough so they could look at eachother, not letting go of Wilbur’s upper arms, "You're actually alive! How... how much do you remember?"

"Nothing after I pushed the button and Phil killed me," Wilbur sighed, "And he won't tell me anything else." Techno nodded. His grip remained tightly, eyes scanning over Wilbur frantically for any injuries. It reminded him of when they were younger, and Techno would accidentally hurt him during sparring. How he'd panic, apologising to him and Phil over and over and over again in fear of being seen as a threat and being thrown to the streets. How he'd refuse to leave Wilbur’s side for hours, sometimes even days, wanting to confirm for himself that his brother was actually okay and not just pretending for his sake.

It was comforting, in a way, to know Techno hadn't changed since Wilbur was gone. 

"Ah, I see. Well, it makes sense Phil wouldn’t want to overload you with information too quick... He's always so worried, like a mother hen or something,” He glanced up the ladder, as if checking to see no one was home. He then leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I spawned the Withers."

Wilbur's eyes seemed to light up like a child's in a toy store,

"You did? Really?"

"Yeah. I thought it was what you wanted. I didn't know you were dead at the time, either." Techno's shoulders seemed to tense up, as if he was preparing for a scolding. 

Instead, Wilbur beamed,

"It was exactly what I'd wanted. I knew I could count on you, Techno." The man laughed, shoulders sagging in relief. He'd clearly been holding onto that doubt for a while. Carefully, he steered Wilbur over to the fire, settling him down on a pillow with an uncharacteristic gentleness,

"Good. Now, I'll unpack, you sit down, and then I'll catch you up on what you missed." He laughed tiredly, "There’s a lot you need to know..."


	3. Tommy

It'd been three months since Wilbur woke up.

Techno helped to fill the gaps in his memory, recounting his experiences with the so-called New L’Manberg, the second War of the 16th, the discs, newcomers to the server, and more. Phil wasn’t happy when he came home to see Techno and Wilbur huddled over a drawn out timeline of events, (it helped visualise what was going on, okay?), claiming he’d wanted to allow Wilbur more time to recover before springing it all on him. Honestly, if it were up to him, Wilbur doubted that Phil would’ve ever told him anything, wanting to keep him bundled up in a big ball of obliviousness, safe from all the harm in the world, too afraid to lose him again.

But Wilbur wasn’t the scared child he’d once been. However Phil may see him, he’d grown up from the young boy he’d found sobbing into his brother's arms in the Nether, and he wanted to be told what was going on, even if it could hurt him. 

Which brought him to where he was now, picking his way through overgrown foliage, alone, and staring down at a hastily drawn map Techno had handed him. His destination helpfully marked out in big red letters: L’Manberg.

_“Techno, I need to see L’Manberg.”_

_The sun was barely peeking over the mountains when Wilbur approached Techno with his request. He’d just returned from a night of zombie hunting, so now was the perfect time. He was tired, so likely to agree to anything Wilbur said just to get him to leave him alone, and Phil would be asleep for another few hours yet. His brother sighed, unlatching the gold clasps of his winter cape and draping it around Wilbur’s shoulders,_

_“Surprised it took you so long to say,” he made his way over to his enderchest, digging through it for a second before producing a piece of paper, rolled up and tied with some string, along with an invisibility potion and some ender pearls, “It’s cold, so take my coat,” he gestured to the blue fabric that now hung around Wilbur’s shoulders, “I drew this map a while back, it’ll take you straight to the East side of the L’Manberg crater. The pearls and potion are for safety, in case you run into someone you shouldn’t. No one but Phil and I know you’re alive, and these,” he handed the items to Wilbur, “Are for if you wanna keep it that way.”_

As he approached where L’Manberg once stood, the ground beneath his feet turned from lush grass into stone and the trees looming over him became bare. Wilbur stepped out over the last exposed tree roots and… he saw it.

The crater.

It was bigger, much, much bigger than the one he remembered looking out on before his death. At least three, if not four times the size. The wooden structures Techno had described were almost nonexistent, save for an untouched few pillars and broken glass dotted around the outskirts. He took a step towards the edge, peering down into the black abyss of what was once a country, _his_ country. The hole went down to bedrock, from what he could tell, and the stronger gusts of wind that passed through it made a soft whistling noise. There was no wildlife in sight, as if every animal’s natural instincts had warned them: _this place is dangerous, this place has history, this place is a death trap, stay away!_

The only semblance of life that remained were the vines that had begun to creep down, snaking their way over jagged stone and racing to the bedrock at the center of the earth. The pit called to him, beckoned him. The wind seemed to whisper.

_Wilbur, come to me. Don’t you see? I’m what you wanted. Look closer… Come closer...._

It was like something was pulling him towards the edge, a magnetic force taking hold and tugging him in. Wilbur’s eyes glazed over as he got closer and closer to the drop, stones coming loose and falling underneath his feet. He wasn’t close enough, he needed to see it all. Needed to see that it was gone. Needed to know that L’Manberg was gone. The impostor had been annihilated, _just like he’d always wanted-_

“Hey! Hey, uh, guy!” A voice broke Wilbur out of his haze, a voice he didn’t recognise. He turned slowly, meeting mismatched red and green eyes. “You shouldn’t get so close to the edge, dude! It’s da- wait… Ghostbur?” The person stopped in their tracks a few feet from where Wilbur stood, regarding him with utter confusion.

“Ah, hello.” Wilbur turned away from the crater, ignoring how the voices screamed and begged him to turn back. He didn’t need to listen to them. The boy who’d called for him wasn’t someone he recognised; he was split down the middle, one half of him was black and one side was white. On the black side, his eye was a neon, almost glowing green. On the white side, his eye was blood red. His hair was split the same, with one side black and one side white, and it was difficult to tell if it was natural or not. He was also freakishly tall, definitely taller than Wilbur was, despite seeming to be about Tommy and Tubbo’s age. “I’m not Ghostbur, I’m Wilbur. Apologies if we’ve met before, but who are you?”

“I-I’m Ranboo… Um, we’ve never met, well we have, kinda? I met your ghost, but I’ve never met Alivebur. Oh! That’s what he called you, uhm, what Ghostbur called you.” The poor kid, Ranboo, seemed terribly nervous. He refused to make eye contact and took a small step back when Wilbur took one forward.

“It’s alright! I guess my reputation precedes me, but I won’t hurt you.” He smiled, “Ranboo, you said? It’s nice to meet you.”

Ranboo seemed to relax, returning the smile,

“Yeah, nice to meet you too… Sorry. I get pretty nervous.” Wilbur waved it away with a chuckle,

“It’s fine, really. Like I said, I can’t imagine people speak too highly of me.”

“Oh, yeah, haha… I heard you went kinda crazy and blew up L’Manberg, that’s all. People preferred not to talk about it, especially Tommy. It was already a bit of a crater when I got here.” He looked out over the edge, “Not… not one this big, though.”

“You know Tommy?” Wilbur asked softly, “How is he? And Tubbo?”

“Oh! Well, they’re actually-”

There was shrieking in the distance, a distinct, high-pitched laugh that Wilbur would recognise anywhere. From the treeline, he watched as two people emerged, one chasing after the other with a sword. 

“C’MERE TUBBOOOO!” Tommy screamed, laughing his ass off as Tubbo dipped and weaved around the rubble to try and get away.

“NOOOOO PLEASE! RANBOO! RANBOO, HELP-” Tubbo skidded to a halt a few steps behind Ranboo, causing Tommy to crash into him with a painful grunt. His eyes were locked fearfully with Wilburs.

“OW! Tubbo, what the fuck, man? What happened?” Tommy followed his friend's gaze, and Wilbur could physically see the breath be knocked out of his lungs. 

“You see him too, right Tommy? Ranboo?” Tubbo asked quietly, glancing between the two. Wilbur smiled softly, giving them a little wave. He couldn’t imagine how weird this must be for them. Tommy stepped forward, hesitantly at first as he eyed Wilbur up and down. Then, like a flash, he was in front of him and holding his sword to his throat, a fiery rage burning in his eyes,

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled, “And why the fuck do you look like Wilbur? I’ll fuckin’ kill you if you don’t start talking!”

Wilbur smiled, despite the press of the sharp sword against his neck; he was happy to see Tommy was still the energetic, foul-mouthed boy he’d left behind - despite the way he’d treated him during the last months of his first life. He was a bit thinner, and his face was slightly more gaunt than before, but his eyes still burned a brilliant, passionate blue. Techno had told him what little information he’d had about Tommy’s exile, so it was calming to see that, despite his worries, Tommy had seemed to bounce back perfectly.

“Tommy, I really don’t want to die a second time,” Wilbur laughed, holding his hands up in surrender, “Revival is a painful process, did you know?”

The boy narrowed his eyes, pushing his sword further into Wilbur’s personal space despite pleas from both Tubbo and Ranboo. From afar, he would seem confident and threatening, but Wilbur could see how his hands trembled and lip quivered. He was terrified.

“I don’t believe you. Revival isn’t possible, and Ghostbur told us he didn’t want to come back,” Wilbur rolled his eyes, this ‘Ghostbur’ character sounded like an air headed idiot.

“Okay, ask me something only I would know.” 

Tommy faltered, taking a second to think, 

“What was my favourite book when we were younger? The one you and Techno would read for me.”

Wilbur smiled fondly, wrapping a hand around the blade of the sword and gently pushing it away,

“Oh, easy. Jack and the Beanstalk - you’d always jump around saying you could fight the Giant with your bare hands and become the richest man alive.”

Tommy’s expression softened, eyes searching Wilbur’s face for a few seconds before dropping the sword, and, with a watery grin and excited shout of “WILBUR!” he wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in the fur of his cape. Wilbur beamed, resting a hand on top of his head and wrapping the other around his shoulders, which shook with silent cries. 

“Hey, come on, Tommy Innit doesn’t cry, does he?” he asked teasingly, glancing up and catching Ranboo ushering Tubbo off back into the woods. He gave them both an appreciative nod, to which Tubbo responded with a glowing smile and a thumbs up before disappearing into the tree line.

“I’m not fuckin’ crying, asshole!” Tommy yelled, though it was muffled in Wilbur’s shoulder. 

“Mm, _okay_ , Your secret’s safe with me.”

The pair stayed like that for a minute, Wilbur letting Tommy collect himself and his emotions. After a minute or two, he pulled away, wiping his red, puffy eyes,

“How?” He asked, grinning in disbelief, the tears melting away into pure excitement, “How are you back? How did you manage it!? Oh my god, I bet it was Phil, huh? He’s, like, the only person smart enough to figure out how to bring someone back from the dead. Plus your new cape! Oh my GOD, I’m so fucking happy, this is SO cool,” he began circling around Wilbur like the excited child he never got to be, checking him over, “You’re actually alive! You’re here!” He inhaled, before screaming, “ _BIG MAN WILBUR IS BACK FROM THE FUCKING DEAD!_ ”

Wilbur doubled over laughing, ignoring the pain it caused in his stomach and head. He had missed Tommy’s stupid antics.

“Ah, Tommy! Stop, stop! Laughing hurts!!” Wilbur wheezed, letting his giggles die down as Tommy hovered over him, fretting slightly at the idea he’d caused his older brother pain. 

“Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m okay. Just still not quite used to the whole ‘alive’ thing again.”

Tommy nodded.

“Yeah, I can imagine…” He got a faraway look in his eyes, looking over Wilbur’s shoulder at the crater, “A lot happened while you were gone, Wilbur…”

He took a step towards the crater, watched by Wilbur, “L’Manberg is… is gone, Wilbur. Gone forever.”

Wilbur hummed, following his gaze to the crater.

“Why did you rebuild it, Tommy?”

The boy started, whipping around to stare at him, bewildered,

“What do you mean, why? It’s… It’s L’Manberg. My home. _Our_ home. Our country!”

Wilbur didn't look at him. His eyes seemed vacant. For a minute, Tommy felt an icy chill surge through his veins.

_That was the same look he had in Pogtopia._

“I blew it up for a reason, Tommy.” Wilbur said, finally dragging his eyes away from the destruction.

“Yeah, ‘cos you were out of your mind insane!”

He sighed, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder,

“Yeah, okay, I’ll admit I wasn’t in the best mental state,” Tommy scoffed, “And I’m sorry. For everything I did in Pogtopia. I was wrong, I treated you awfully. I was manipulative and cruel. I drove a wedge between you and Techno, I villainized Tubbo, and I put so much responsibility onto you. I made you look after me in a time when I should’ve been looking after you, as your big brother, and I don’t think I’ll ever quite atone for my actions in that bloody ravine…”

“But that’s not why I blew up L’Manberg. Yes, I was a bit out of it, and yes, I didn’t vocalise my intentions too well, but... “ He dropped his hand from Tommy’s shoulder and stood at the edge of the crater, arms thrown out to his sides, “ _This,_ this is why I did it, Tommy! Look at it! L’Manberg was _my_ unfinished symphony!” He spun to face Tommy, who looked on in devastation, “What do you think of now, when you think of this place? Do you think of the good times? The van? The Declaration?” His arms dropped to his sides,

“Or do you think of death? Of pain? Or war?” Silence. “Tommy, when I blew up L’Manberg, I was trying to preserve it. Leave it in a way that could still be regarded with fondness and looked back on with a smile. I stopped writing the song because I realised there was no satisfying ending…”

Wilbur turned, looking out upon the barren wasteland that he used to call home. Tears gathered in his eyes.

“You tried to finish writing it for me. But… you did it in the wrong key.”

Tommy stepped forward, hand outstretched, 

“Wilbur?” He asked. Softly. Timidly. His brother turned to face him, tears streaming down his pale cheeks.

_“You’ve ruined the original melody…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, yeah. i basically wrote this backwards,, i started with the idea of wilbur saying the final lines and worked backwards lolol;; i hope u enjoyed it anyways!!
> 
> some things i wanna point out in case my writing isnt quite right:  
> 1) techno and tommy kinda parallel each other in the sense that both of their first reactions is to pull out a sword (one out of instinct, one out of distrust)  
> 2) at the end, tommy looks on in devastation because he realises that the version of wilbur from pogtopia is still in there (hence his voices at the crater) despite how wilbur claims to be better
> 
> thank u so so so much for reading!!!! <333 i just write for fun and dont really proof read so if you notice any mistakes pls lmk so i can fix them :] ty!
> 
> edit: i added more to the techno chapter as i felt it ended a bit strangely and didn't quite do their dynamic justice


End file.
